


Permeate

by Menirva



Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Femdom, Multi, Pegging, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:49:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menirva/pseuds/Menirva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A break during occupation leads Talia to join her brother for a visit. She always has a way of managing to catch him off his guard. This is no exception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Permeate

Barsad woke to the sound of a low chuckle by his ear and Talia's light weight pressed to his back as she lay on him. His body had been rigid at the sudden awakening, but he breathed in her sweet scent, relaxing, a small, amused smile on his lips as her nails scratched through his beard. He had come in from patrol late, had thought he had missed her visit and passed out onto his cot more than a little disappointed. But it seemed that she had come back just to see him. The thought was sentimental, but he warmed from it anyway.

"So sleepy, lamb," Talia murmured against his ear. He cleared his throat lightly, working out the scratchiness from sleep and swallowed when her nails dug into the corner of his jaw. "I waited for you, but your cot is so cold without you in it."

He winced inwardly at the displeasure in her tone. He had tried to do all he could to get back from the patrol, but knew better than to argue with that. He was still late. He had still disappointed her, and she would care little for any sort of excuse over the matter. He waited until her nails released his skin, became a soothing brush again before he spoke, "I'm sorry, sister."

Talia clicked her tongue softly at his verbal apology, and he knew it was not what she was looking for. He turned carefully under her, wrapped his arms around her and relished being allowed to hold her strength and softness in his arms as he apologized with his mouth, kissed her plush lips with his own chapped ones, slipped her bottom lip between his own and nibbled gently, delighting in the sigh he pulled from her.

"I would understand," he told her between kisses, between sliding his hands slowly up the back of her shirt to caress her bare skin, "if you wished to go, but I hope you will stay."

She smiled against his kiss and it sent a thrill through him. Her smiles were so rare, and this one seemed to speak of something truly wicked she must have planned for them. He did not know what it might be, but he had long ago given his body over to her as a toy, a bauble, to do with as she pleased.

Such a life of servitude to her had its joys and its upsets. She enjoyed experimenting with him, anything that her clever mind might think of, things that would make even a hardened man blush were his fellow league members to know. But she knew he would never deny her any curiosity she might have. After all, he had never been able to deny her anything. Now she moaned softly against his kisses, ran her hands up his chest slowly and squeezed his shoulders as she pretended to consider the options. "I suppose I will stay."

"You suppose you will stay?" he questioned as playfully as he dared, kissing her chin. He brushed his lips down to her neck and kissed the line of her throat as she arched her head back to give him access. "And what do you wish of me, dear sister?"

She chuckled quietly in response and he was surprised by her answer. "I wish you to turn around, back onto your belly," she leaned down to kiss the tip of his nose and whisper, "like a good boy for me."

He couldn't help the light shiver that ran through him at her words. When she wished him to 'be a good boy' for her was when she was at her most playful, her most dangerous, doing things to him that he loved and hated, breaking down the walls he kept up even around those closest to him. But he could never deny her. He nodded his head and kissed her once more, carefully turning so the blankets were once again against his bare chest.

Her graceful fingers dug into the muscle of his back, not a massage, they never stayed long enough for that, but they worked down slowly regardless, down to the small of his back, then the curve of his ass. He couldn't help but grin slightly at the playful 'mmm' he heard from her as she squeezed there lightly. He jumped and grunted when her hand smacked down there, the sharp pain biting through the denim that he'd passed out in and sending a jolt of shameful pleasure through him.

"Did you like that, lamb?"

He winced at the question, knowing better than to lie to her. So he gave the barest of nods, just enough that his face rubbed into the comforter below them, hoping it would be enough. He gritted his teeth when another spank made his hips jerk forward.

"I said, lamb, did you like that?" she asked, her voice so calm, so even, with no playfulness. He knew better than to try to play coy when it sounded like that.

"Yes, yes, sister," he whispered the words out, hating the rush a red he felt creeping up his throat, "I liked that."

"I thought you might," was her response, and somehow that was worse, for her to just know that he would enjoy such a thing, and what that said about what she thought of him. He swallowed and bit down on the inside of his cheek to prevent a grunt when her hand sliced through the air and smacked down again sharply.

"Don't," she warned. "If I wanted you to be quiet, I would tell you to be quiet. I would tell you not to make a peep."

He forced his mouth open at the command, a sharp intake of breath from the next slap making his blush reach his ears. When her finger traced lightly behind the shell of his ear, he knew she could see the red there, and it was even worse, then. It was maddening that she had the power to make him feel so small, so helpless to her whims so easily.

"Good boy," she praised, and he wanted to disappear into the bedding at how the blood rushed to his cock at the approval, at the strikes to his ass. One sharp slap, delivered just so, had him moaning out, his warmed bottom rising up and pressing up into the flat palm of her hand before he could stop his hips.

The light laugh the action earned was mortifying no matter how fond it sounded. He started to lower his hips back down, but she stopped him with her small hands cupping them, keeping them still as her nimble fingers slid to the front of his jeans, plucking open the button and then sliding down the zipper, guiding him out, not at all surprised as his lack of underwear; she know his tendencies too well. Instead, she peeled his jeans down just enough to expose the rosy tint to his ass, letting them bunch up at his thighs as she let him drop his hips back down.

Her nails scraped over the abused flesh, and his hands dug into the blankets in response, twisting them up in his fists. Another smack had him choking back a cry. He was hard against the bedding now, each squirm rubbing him against the soft cotton a bit more until he could feel a bit of fluid starting to bubble out and smear across the blankets, rubbing sticky against his stomach.

"Don't move."

He didn't, not a single twitch when she slid from the back of his thighs though he hated her weight gone. He heard her shuffling things around, the zipper of her bag being opened. He dared not peek, knowing how she would be disappointed with him. Instead he only listened, feeling a slight sense of relief when the bed dipped down again with her presence. When she played like this it broke down walls in him, made him feel stupid and clingy, ridiculously so, like he was somehow a lover and not simply her toy. She seemed to know, and he was always relieved when she didn't scold him for it. Now her hand only went to his back, patting lightly.

"On your knees."

He was still for a moment, surprised, unsure what she wanted of him in that position. Perhaps she had brought a paddle something else to rose his cheeks with, and wished a better position for it. Whatever it was, it truly didn't matter; he would obey whatever she had planned. He rose up onto his knees, his jeans still around his thighs, his elbows planting firmly into the mattress and his forehead resting against it in a quiet submission. When her hand slid between his thighs and pulled, he listened to the silent command and spread.

His legs splayed apart and he felt more vulnerable, more exposed to her. Her hand cupped the cheek of his ass and her fingers slid inward, too close to be accidental before her hand smacked down sharply again, across the more tender exposed skin there and drawing a near yelp out of him. She made an almost sympathetic noise, more a tease than anything, and her hand was gone again. He froze when he heard the sound of a cap opening, dared to speak hesitantly.

"Sister?"

"Shh, hush, lamb."

Hers. He was hers. He repeated the quiet mantra when his body wanted nothing more than to flee. He had heard that sound before and his positioning was unmistakable, but this was something he had given only one other, only their brother. Even if she wished to only play there, explore with her fingers, it was a vulnerability he had expected to never give to any other simply because he never thought she would ever be interested in it. He hated but could not stifle the quick, nervous breaths he took when her slippery fingers ran slowly across his hole.

Her fingers paused, hovering just over his entrance, and he could feel the heat and wet from them, the brush against his sensitive skin sending a rush of desire through him even with his trepidation.

"Am I asking too much of you, brother?" Her words were almost casual, as if she were truly not asking much, just for him to open himself up to her completely, to bare his soul, nothing much at all. But for her, for her, it truly was nothing much to give.

"Never, sister," he promised fervently,

"Good..." Her response was clipped, casual, her fingers less so. His grip on the bedding tightened as they teased him. She was clearly new to it, exploring, pressing at his opening until he yielded to her, took a pair of her slender fingers inside with a low moan. It had been a long time since Bane had had the opportunity to visit, to take comfort from him, and his body missed it, missed the wonderful stretch, the knowledge that he was being useful, was wanted in the moment and providing his service.

"Tell me where it feels good," she said, and it was the last thing he wanted.

This was hers to explore as she desired, but it felt selfish and more than a little embarrassing to guide her to what would feel best for him. At first he was quiet, unsure of where to begin, but her fingers began to pump into him slowly, working him open, and heat licked across his skin. He had never been able to be quiet in such circumstances. When slow, breathy moans started to leave him, she used them as a guide.

His mouth dropped open and a long groan was drawn out of him when her fingers chanced over his prostate, sending a pulse of pleasure through his body, making it feel as though her lively fingers were dancing over his cock as it dripped down onto the mattress. He didn't need to see her wicked smirk to know it was there. He could tell by the way she kept stroking across the nerves in him, forcing pleasure to twist through his body, sending his heart racing and his blood pumping.

His body arched under her ministrations. There was sweat breaking out on his skin now as he began to rock back at her fingers, just as he did for Bane when the pleasure of his preparing became too much, when he just needed to be able to move for him. He was allowed one or two delicious rocks of his hips that sent her fingers deeper before they were pulled away. He did not whimper, but it was a near thing. His voice was thick when he questioned her quietly, confused by how she kneeled behind him.

Her hand went to his thighs, a slap to them forcing him to scoot them apart further. He was feeling dazed, overheated and confused over the situation, but he wanted to please her. He always wanted to please her.

He could hear the sound of a buckle, something being fit on or into place. He didn't understand until he suddenly felt the slicked up length sliding between the cheeks of his ass, running over his hole. A toy. She had a toy of sorts with her, and she planned to use it on him, fuck him open with it. He tried to rise up instinctively to see, but her hand went to the small of his back, pinning him down.

"Why?" he managed to get the word out. Why would she want this, of all things? What could be pleasurable about it to her?

"Because it is what I want, lamb," she told him, and when she pressed up against him, he could feel the strange length pressing against his ass, rubbing over his hole, leather pressed against the backs of his thighs and ass from the harness she must be wearing so that she could truly take him, fuck him. He shivered at the thought. It was so strange, the idea, but this was Talia. He never denied her.

His breath caught when it, when she, pushed into him slowly. It was thick, so thick that his thighs trembled with the strain of taking her inside, his breathing shallow until her hand was at his side, rubbing slowly and anchoring him to her.

"Do you think I don't know about you and Bane?" She asked it suddenly, out of the blue enough to startle him, and he couldn't answer, could only cry out hoarsely when her hips pressed forward more, when her thighs pressed against his again and she was seated so deeply and fully inside of him.

Her nails dug into his ass when he didn't answer, when he was too overwhelmed by the feeling of being opened up, taken over by her. He honestly hadn't known whether or not she knew about him and Bane. It was not as though he was trying to hide it from her. He knew they were by no means exclusive, and he had suspected that she found her way to their brother's bed just as often as he did, but would never have asked.

He hissed when she pinched tender flesh. "I wasn't... I wasn't sure, sister," he finally mumbled out, hating that he sounded like a guilty child over it, like he was sneaking around when that had not been the intention at all.

"I asked him, when I suspected, when I saw you standing awkwardly on your patrol, but with a satisfied glint in your eye," she told him softly as she leaned over him. He could feel the soft curve of her breasts pressing to his back, her lips against his spine, so unfamiliar to him in such a position, when it was usually thick muscle and cool metal against him. "He told me how you take him in, how much you enjoy it, and how you practically mewl for him, lamb."

He swallowed at her words, wanting to deny them, but knew just how true they were. Bane overwhelmed him in a way no other could, or so he thought. Now he could feel Talia's hips pulling back, and he wondered, worried, that she might manage it, too, to shatter him apart into little pieces. Her teeth were wickedly sharp when they nipped at his skin, her breath skittering across it making him shudder.

"Does it feel good inside? I made certain that it was the size you were most accustomed to," she teased, and he flushed, realizing it was true, that the stretch was familiar in a way, the same thickness as Bane. When she drew back further, thrusting her hips forward, it made pleasure rush through him. He uttered a low curse when her hand smacked down onto his ass suddenly.

"Answer."

"I-It does," he admitted roughly, curling his arm in front of him on the bed if only so he could bury his face in it, hating all of the heat and flush on him that was born of embarrassment and a twisted desire that had him enjoying her cruel teasing, had part of him wanting nothing more than to rock back at her and let go, lose himself to this. This was not for him, though, he had to remind himself of that. This was a curiosity she had that was his duty to sate.

But it was a hard thing to remember when he could hear Talia's low, breathy moan, when she began to rock into him slowly. Each deep push in she would grind against him in a slow circle, her breathing heavier, and he had to imagine that the toy she was using on him was being ground back against her as well, providing her with her own thrill.

"Is this how he does it, lamb?" she asked as her hands scraped down his back, leaving lines of nail marks and sending even more want through him. He choked back a cry and shook his head.

"How, then?"

"Harder," he mumbled, never able to lie to her.

Harder took some doing. Talia was not exactly used to the sort of maneuvering that it took to fuck into him. She learned quickly, though, and he shouted out in shock when she managed to nail his prostate unexpectedly.

"T-There, please!" He berated himself for not being able to bite back the plea, but oh, was he breaking apart for her. How she talked to him through it, her low, sultry voice wrapping around him, teasing him, playing with him. She would ask him about Bane, ask if he liked how this cock filled him, too, if he would suck it for her one day like he must do with Bane so often, if he would come for her just like this if she kept pounding into him.

He could feel slickness against his thighs, lube and Talia's wetness smearing onto him. It only made it better to know it was bringing her pleasure with his own. She pushed him down against the bed more, gave in to his plea, and worked to stroke against the nerves she had managed to hit before.

Barsad twisted wildly under her, not trying to break free but to work back at her. He could no longer hold back, he was breaking down for her, racing towards his own climax and wanting everything she was giving him.

"Sister, sister, please," he gasped out. It was close, he was close, his cock aching for release.

"Is this not enough?" she asked, her own words broken up by quick breaths. "Are you so greedy that you need more?"

He shook his head. He could, he knew he could come just from this, from the delicious fullness and pleasure, but he needed something else. At his core, he needed to obey, and time with Bane had trained his body all too well to wait for his command. He bit into his lip, not able to tell her, to be so selfish as to suggest it.

He knew when she came, was surprised and thrilled by it, the soft cry against his back, the way her fingers dug into him, her thighs trembling slightly against his own. She sounded so satisfied from it, from him, and he whimpered when his own could not be reached.

Talia laughed softly, her hand going to his hair, and she yanked his head back sharply all of her weight supported against his back, her lips pressed to his cheek. "Do you think I don't know, brother? He tells me everything." She kissed there and her words turned from breathy to firm, commanding, an order that he was helpless but to obey.

"Come for me, lamb."

He shuddered under her, always obedient, not able to bite back the ragged sob that tore from him as her hand found him, as it only took a few quick strokes before he spilled out onto the blankets past her fingers.

"Good boy," was whispered against his ear as he dropped down onto the bed, his limbs feeling like rubber. She nearly squeaked when she went with him, her weight settling down onto him and a small grin found his lips as he sighed contently.

"Yes, sister."


End file.
